


Rooftops

by Solstarin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, batfam - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solstarin/pseuds/Solstarin
Summary: Just a fun little thing, really. Post-Robin, but barely, right in between S1 & S2 of Young Justice if it helps to have a visual reference. Not that it makes a world of difference. I just really like Grayson.More like BAE-son amiright????Anyways ignore me.Enjoy!





	Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here! < http://nerddface.tumblr.com/post/160174084828/rooftops > to replace Y/N with a name!

Living in a world of superheroes was... a task. Sometimes it was bearable-- sometimes Gotham could go an entire week without some wild attack. Other times it was her entire apartment building going up in smoke after someone’s jet crashed into it. Most of the time it was dodging racing people and vehicles and another trip to the barber after a near-miss projectile singed off a chunk of your hair. 

This week for Y/N was all about small heart attacks as a human-sized shadow passed by her bedroom window at night and across the sidewalk in her path. Every time she looked up to see who made it, all she caught was the heel of a boot, or the tail end of a cape. She was never sure of the boots or capes belonged to heroes or villains; both of them used the rooftops as their playground, and it was not advised to run into either. Heroes protected the people, but you could get your head knocked off if you startled one of them in their domain. 

But despite being skittish of late, Y/N would not let anyone ruin her fun, and if she wanted to make a cocktail and cook a burger on that little outdoor grill she found in the storage unit from college, she was going to, superheroes or no. 

The sun was set to sink below the horizon of Gotham in the next forty-five minutes, so Y/N gathered her little wheeled cooler stocked with the few ingredients she’d need for the evening in one hand, her grill in the other, slung a bag over her shoulder and set off for the elevator. 

Two dings and a flight of stairs later, she was opening the roof access door to the evening sky. Lilac and scarlet dragged their fingertips across the rosy orange face of the horizon, curtained only sporadically by long, thin clouds. The breeze that blew across her shoulders held a slight chill, but with warm charcoal and a drink it wouldn’t bother her. 

Rick, the man next door, had left a plastic chair up here for the times he’d sit and chat with his girlfriend in London with a cigarette. He was visiting her now, so the chair was free for use, and she dragged it across the loose gravel to where she’d parked her cooler and grill. 

The charcoal lit quickly (amen, kingsford) and within fifteen minutes she had a whitened, glowing bed in her grill, ready to use. She tossed one of the frozen patties she’d pressed earlier that week onto the metal with a satisfying sizzle (it took a little more effort, but it was easier to grind her own beef and shape it with some spices than it was to buy pre-ground beef or pre-made patties, plus it made her feel like she was on the food network channel). She left the lid off and sank back into her seat, reaching for her cocktail mixer, a glass, and a book.. 

She set the book down in her lap and watched the light dance through the plastic cup, shaking her drink somewhat absentmindedly with her other hand. Suddenly that damn shadow flew over her, close enough to create a breeze that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. 

“Christ!” She fumbled with her shaker and dropped her plastic glass with a clackety racket. When she looked back up at the culprit, he was still.

The dying light of day shimmered across his skin-tight, raven’s-wing-black suit, half-illuminating the bright blue bird logo sprawled across his chest. He looked at her through the lenses of his sharply pointed mask, crouched atop the stairwell casing, for what felt like an hour but what was probably less than five seconds, and then stood and leapt off, towards another rooftop. 

Y/N snorted good riddance and gave her drink a vigorous shake. “I’m too sober for this.” 

~

She was halfway through a chapter and her burger when the masked man returned, his spiky black hair shading the pages of her book.

“For the love of fuck!” she exclaimed, nearly dropping her dinner and flipping a stray piece of lettuce over the back of her hand when she flinched. “Are you really a superhero? Because I don’t think it’s part of your job description to scare the shit out of civilians just trying to have a nice evening!”

“Sorry,” he said, his voice low. 

She looked up at him, feeling the voice was familiar, somehow, and beneath the mask and the shadow of his hair she noticed the illuminated edge of a scar on his cheekbone. The sun set, the sliver of light on his face squeezing away into nothing, but she kept studying him, tilting her head a little as if that would help her discern who he was. He shifted his weight and his blue eyes narrowed behind the mask. She looked away, muttering a half-hearted apology and shifting her weight, setting her book down to wrangle her greens. Just as she was about to make a quip about what the hell are you doing just standing around, don’t you have someplace to be, saving people or something, a name that matched the messy black hair and deep voice came to mind, and she froze, looking back up.

“Wait, hang on, Matt?”

She’d know that voice anywhere-- she was surprised she didn’t recognize those shoulders and the dark mop of hair before now. Matt lived across the hallway from her, but she’d only really see him early in the morning when her shift ended. Being an E.M.T. in Gotham meant unpredictable hours, and more often than not, sleepless nights. He always seemed to do his laundry at 3 a.m.; a good while into the time Y/N had to use the key and special permission from the landlord to get into the laundromat. She always assumed he had a key as well, but now she wasn’t so sure. At any rate, he didn’t talk much, then, either, but Y/N supposed that only added to the appeal of the tight-lipped, dark-haired hunk that never slept. 

He looked startled, and turned, picking up a rapid pace to the edge of the building, probably with the intent to get the hell out of there. Y/N wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Hey!” she shouted after him.

Surprisingly, he paused. “Listen, it’s not like I have anything to gain from telling anybody, okay, so the least you can do is humor a girl for five minutes. You know, I had a friend who dated the Flash for like two years, right, and I had no idea until I found him halfway out of his suit in the bathroom at six a.m.” 

Even more surprisingly, he turned. “Really?”

Y/N offered him a grin. He hesitated for a long moment, but eventually accepted it and pulled up a discarded box to sit on.

“Want a burger? I brought an extra, in case...” 

She left the question open ended, and again, he hesitated. Y/N supposed if he didn’t eat it, she would, so she tossed it on anyway and continued her story. “Yeah, I had spent the night because we-- my friend and I-- had gone out the night before because I was off-shift, and he either didn’t know I was there or didn’t know we had come back at all. I got up early to take a shower, but he didn’t even shut the door the whole way, let alone lock it, for whatever reason, I don’t know, but so I open the door and he’s got that obnoxious red suit of his halfway off, and I’m like: ‘ _Barry?!_ ’ and he’s like: ‘ _Y/N?!_ ’. Now don’t get me wrong, he’s-” she snorted. “-snatched, but he also spends all day in that spandex monstrosity, and I really could have lived my whole life without seeing my best friend’s boyfriend’s pasty ass!” 

Recalling the incident sent her into giggles, and she was pleased to see what may have been a smile developing on her new dinner-mate’s lips. She reached for her shaker and another plastic glass, thankful that she’d brought spare. They were cheap, thus unreliable, and it always helped to have extra, just in case, though she hoped this one wouldn’t be faulty. A thought occurred to her as she gave the mixer an extra shake and poured a glass, and it made her laugh a little harder. 

“Wait, you’re bound to have worked with him, right? I must have just given you some prime blackmail material.” 

Surprisingly, this pulled a chuckle from him. “You did.”

Another thought bubbled in Y/N’s mind as she handed him the drink. 

“What’s your ... hero name? That sounds cheesy.”

“Nightwing,” he replied. “You get used to it.”

She studied his face for a moment. “Your name isn’t really Matt, is it?”

The corner of his mouth turned up and twitched the healing cut on his cheek, infuriatingly attractive. “No.”

She drew a deep breath. “At any rate, Matt, which I’m still going to call you, at least I know why you’re always doing your laundry at 3 am. You know for a while I wondered if maybe you were like a bouncer or something, because who works a desk job with those arms and laundry that needs doing in the wee hours of the morning, and--” she reined herself in swiftly. “I’m rambling. Sorry, I don’t drink much, I’m a lightweight. Must be getting to my head already.” She peered into her drink as though it would answer her. 

“I guess bouncer is an appropriate term,” Matt-not-really-Matt offered. 

Y/N huffed, reining in her dinner. “Bouncer for the entirety of Gotham. How does Batman feel about another hero in his territory?”

Matt shrugged noncommittally, seemingly warming up to her. “He and Robin can’t cover everything. We’re...” there was a long pause, here. “Colleagues, in a way.”

“Guess they are only two people, and even with Batgirl, Gotham is a big city. I know the ambulances can’t be everywhere at once.” 

“You’re a nurse?” her new companion asked somewhat quietly. 

“EMT,” Y/N corrected. “I wanted to help people, but I'm not nearly brave enough to be a hero. Or flexible. All that... spandex, on all of... this?” She gestured loosely with her food to herself, and took another bite. 

“I don’t think it would be so bad,” Matt spoke quietly. _A flirt?_

“Mm-mm. No, really, it’s like putting that suit on this.” she pointed to her burger, drawing another little smile to his face. Silence fell for a moment as she lifted the patty on the grill to check. It looked good and done, so she flipped it and took the last bite of her dinner. 

“It’s dangerous up here at night,” Matt commented on the diminishing light. Y/N met his eye steadily, watching his gaze flicker from one of her eyes to the other, down slightly, then back up. 

“Yeah?” she challenged. 

“I can think of a dozen villains who would snatch you up, no hesitation.” 

“Aren’t heroes here to keep that from happening?”

“ _He and Robin can’t cover everything_.” 

Y/N shifted her weight and inclined her head. “Yes, but isn’t that what you’re for? Or the Justice League?”

“We’re only human,” Matt argued. 

“I can think of more than half a dozen who aren’t even close.”

“Touché.”

With a smile on her lips, she flipped open the cooler to retrieve the housing for the patty on the grill. “Cheese?” she asked, and retrieved a slice when she got a short nod in response. 

“Should be done in a hot second,” she informed him as she tossed it atop the patty to melt. “You’re gonna drink that?”

Mat looked down at his glass, which had been largely unmoved from his lap. “Honestly, probably not. Sorry, gotta keep the senses sharp, you know?” 

“Mm-hm. I don’t make them strong, like I said, I can’t drink much, but whatever floats your boat.” 

SIlence fell again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. A breeze brushed the pages of her discarded book, and she stared at them distraitly. 

“What made you want to become a hero?” She looked back up to her dinner-mate, whose gaze was fixed on her grill, also blank. 

“I--” he grit his teeth. “I didn’t. At first. It’s not-- it isn’t always a blessing.” 

Y/N held her tongue, despite a hundred more questions running through her head. 

“Being a paramedic is hard, too,” she empathized, trying to reach out to him without crossing any boundaries. “You can’t save everyone. I don’t know if you... if it’s different...”

“It isn’t.” He sounded like he was going to continue, but didn’t. “It isn’t,” he repeated, quieter. 

Y/N didn’t want to let a wet blanket fall over their dinner, so she shook her head and lifted the patty again to peer under it. 

“Well!” she chirped. “Looks ready!” 

She lifted the burger onto its bun, set down her spatula, and handed it to its recipient. He set down his glass and took it, thanking her quietly. 

“EMT?” he asked. “I’m curious.”

“Yeah,” Y/N looked up, watching the stars twinkle to life. “My mom was a doctor.” 

She told him her story, for whatever worth, as he ate, listening to his hums of acknowledgement. The light of day gave way to the dark blanket of night, slowly turning the sky black as Matt-Nightwing’s burger disappeared.

He waited a moment after he was finished, probably out of courtesy, until she was wrapped up, and stood. The awakening lights of the city cinched his already taught midsection, and the blue bird seemed a little lighter in color, but it was probably just the light. “I oughtta split,” he relented. 

Y/N nodded slowly, watching him stand. “Thanks for putting up with me. I’ll see you some morning?”

A short pause, and a shake of his head. “No.”

Oh. “Does that mean you’re moving out?” 

He nodded solemnly. “Knowing me could put us both in danger. It’s been nice knowing you... through your laundry.”

For some reason, she was disappointed beyond not getting to see those shoulders again. She felt like she was losing a friend; they’d never spoken, really, before tonight, but they’d sat together for plenty of quiet hours while the washing machines rumbled in the background. It was nice to be able to sit with someone without the pressure of conversation or responsibility. The laundry room would be lonely in the future. But she supposed he had a point; he had no reason to trust her to keep his identity a secret, and if anyone found out she knew, she could become a target. 

“Well... if you ever need a patch up on short notice, you know where to find me. And thanks for keeping my scrubs company.” 

He gave her a kind, genuine smile, raised his hand in a casual wave, and turned, somersaulting off the building and into the night. 


End file.
